Trembling Warrior
by CrzyAlterEgo
Summary: "Ich liebe dich," are the final words that Germany utters to one of his loved ones who suddenly turns up dead. No one knows how it happened leaving Germany to find out on his own. Yet, he struggles to keep his emotions and temper cool as the death takes a toll on him. As he suffers he finds an uncanny friendship in a shorter male named Aspen, who helps him when no one else can.
1. Chapter One: The Will

Disclaimer: All rights of Aspen belong to me, Ash aka CrzyAlterEgo, and all rights to Rowan belong to my friend, Bailey aka KiraKiraDoki. DO NOT STEAL. All rights of Hetalia belong to Hidekaz Himaruya, they do NOT belong to me.  
Please give me a review! Tell me how to make it better.

Chapter One : The Will

"Now, it says here that the deceased leaves you his estate, his banking accounts, and…" the lawyer paused as he read over the will. His glasses sat on the edge of his nose; square in shape and dirty. He had black hair once – that much was visible, however, in his later years it had started to turn gray. So much so that half of his head was covered gray hairs and he didn't seem to notice or more like he didn't seem to care. He seemed like a man in his late 50's or early 60's at most. He sat a little hunched over, yet overall his posture seemed straight. Much to anyone's surprise he had a British accent. It was starting to fade since the man hadn't been home in some time but it was definitely there.

"If I translate this right, it says he leaves you his heart. He has left it in the drawer in his room..? I'm sorry, but I don't know what this means sir," the lawyer said confused at the last part as he put the will down. "I am truly sorry for your loss Mr. Beilschmidt."


	2. Chapter Two : Canolis and Corpses

Disclaimer: All rights of Aspen belong to me, Ash aka CrzyAlterEgo, and all rights to Rowan belong to my friend, Bailey aka KiraKiraDoki. DO NOT STEAL. All rights of Hetalia belong to Hidekaz Himaruya, they do NOT belong to me.  
Please give me a review! Tell me how to make it better.

Chapter Two : Cannolis and Corpses

"Germany, Germany! I brought you some canolis!" a voice said as it knocked on the door. Germany, whom had been up for several hours already, looked at the door and sighed.

"Come in Italy," he said loud enough for the happy boy to hear.

"Look what I brought you. Fresh cannolis from the bakery. They smell good. Let's eat some pasta to go with it," Italy said with his usual clueless smile as he put down the white box which held the treats in. Germany looked at his best friend and shook his head. In the all the time he had known Feliciano Vargas, though mostly known for as Italy, he still had trouble getting use to the boy's love for pastas.

"How's your morning been so far Germany?" the happy man asked as he busied himself in Germany's kitchen.

"Don't make a mess Italy," the German man said as he looked out his bay living room window, unintentionally ignoring the Italian's question. In the back of his head he replayed what his older brother, Gilbert, had said to him.

_"Don't you vorry about zey awesome me. I'll make sure to call home ven I get ze chance," _the man had said before he had gone off to war. For some reason, a neighboring country whom he did not know, had sent a declaration of war to the Prussian state, which had long since collapsed and was the result of Gilbert living in his younger brother's home. Yet being the person Gilbert was, he accepted and borrowed a small number of Germany's army. He remembered the red-eyed man saying that the country wasn't big at all and that he'd beat them to the ground before a month had even passed. However, it was going on four months and neither side had won. From what the Prussian had said to his brother the 'other guy' as he put it wasn't as weak as he looked and it was actually a pretty tough fight. It had been a month since he had last heard his brother's voice and normally by now the man would have called.

_"Ich liebe dich, Ludwig. I promise to return safe,"_ was the last words that Gilbert had said before running back to the battle field. Since then Germany awaited his weekly call or letter and had no sign of either.

Then, the phone rang. Breaking from his trance, Germany turned on his heels and reached for the phone.

"_Hullo_?" he said, hoping that it was Gilbert calling him. Instead he was met by a voice he did not know.

"Hello is this Mr. Ludwig Beilschmidt?" the voice on the other line asked.

"_Ja_, whom am I speaking vith?" he asked as he waited to hear something about Gilbert, anything.

"This is the Berlin Emergency Hospital calling. We believe we have Gilbert Beilschmidt's body and we would like you to identify it," the woman said and Germany froze. Body? Gilbert wasn't dead. He couldn't die. The minute that past in silence was much longer than Germany could bear and when the woman finally broke him out of it he said 'yes' and hung up. It wasn't possible. Gilbert, his big brother, his awesome, annoying big brother couldn't be dead. It just couldn't happen. What would he do without him? He couldn't think about life without Gilbert. It was like thinking about life without order. It was impossible.

The large muscular man stood there, dazed, confused, hurt. He didn't want to move but he needed to. He had to go find out what the deal was and if the body they had found was really Gilbert's. He collected himself as he walked to the coat rack and grabbed his coat before walking into the kitchen. Italy was there humming to himself as he boiled pasta and chopped tomatoes. The kitchen was rather clean, which Germany was glad for, as he looked straight at the other man.

"I have to go to ze hospital. I'd like you to come,"he said the last part more quietly than the first. If Gilbert really was dead he wasn't sure how he was going to react. At the moment the woman had told him to come to the hospital to examine a body his heart seemed to lodge itself into his throat. Italy stopped humming and looked up from cutting the tomatoes. For once, the Italian man did not ask why, since he could more than likely see it on the German's face and nodded, turning off the noodles.

"This way," the morgue doctor said as he led Germany into the cold room. Italy was asked to stay outside. He wasn't the type to do dead bodies and Germany couldn't have the man he had asked to support him emotionally break down in tears at all the corpses. On a table there lay a body under a white sheet where the doctor stopped. He then looked to the German man who nodded. Slowly, he pulled back the sheet to reveal what was underneath. Gilbert. The pale man with red eyes and platinum blond hair looked so peaceful lying there that Germany had to swallow hard. He stared for a moment but then nodded, confirming that the body was indeed Gilbert. He raised now tired blue eyes to the doctor and without saying anything the doctor nodded.

"Take your time," he said as he turned and walked out of the room. Once the door was closed Germany wasn't sure how to react. Deep inside him he felt the urge to scream, break things, even to drop to his knees and sob. However, that would be very unprofessional and unlike him. He couldn't find the energy he had had earlier that morning to respond to the fact that his only family was now gone. He looked at the man who appeared to be sleeping and grabbed his hand. Cold to the touch and lifeless. Emotions welled up in his throat and he fought to swallow them. What did he do? Did he lean down and kiss his forehead? Did he say he was sorry for being a brat of a younger brother? He had never dealt with death before. Or rather, he had never dealt with death that hit this close to home. Of course, he had been in numerous battles and his men meant everything to him, but this was different. This was as if he had just been punched in the heart and it was having a hard time beating. After a moment of never ending silence Germany let go of Gilbert's hand, placing it by his side. He looked at his brother's closed eyes and leaned down to kiss his lips. Normally, he'd never do such a thing, and he'd feel embarrassed afterward, but this was a different story. He rubbed his thumb across Gilbert's forehead.

_"Ich liebe dich," _he whispered his last I love you before turning and leaving the death filled room without looking back.

That night when Italy and Germany both returned home from the hospital the two had nothing to say. Though, it had seemed as if it had just been morning, the two had spent the entire day in the hospital. After Germany had confirmed the body was indeed his brother's it all went downhill with legal documents after that. He had been use to those sorts of things, but the process seemed longer. As he signed document after document, Italy stood by him making mindless chatter about everything but what was currently going on. The ride back to Germany's house had been silent. The Italian had no topics which to mindlessly blatter about and Germany was too numb and tired to pretend to care.

When they got out of the car and Germany had finally opened his door everything seemed cold. The weather was fairly warm still, but the atmosphere seemed cold and dead. Without caring to turn on the lights, the German man dropped his shoulder and walked over to his couch, flopping down without a care in the world. Italy came in a moment after and flipped on the lights before walking over to the couch to sit besides his best friend.

"Germany…" the auburn haired man said softly, opening his eyes to reveal their amber color as he looked at Germany. The blond haired man looked different. His normally gelled back hair had now fallen into his face and its shaggy look made him appear his age for once, and not some up tight soldier. When Italy addressed Germany he didn't look up, he didn't even appear as if he had heard him at all. Without warning, Italy threw his arms around him and hugged tightly.

"It's okay. You can cry if you want," he said as he held his friend in an awkward sideways hug. After about a minute or so, Germany moved his body so he faced Italy, wrapping his strong arms around the weaker male. He placed his head on his shoulder and let out the breath of stress he had been carrying in his lungs the entire day. It seemed so unreal. His brother, Gilbert, who had been there his entire life, who had raised him, was suddenly gone. And he was still young. It seemed as if they sat there for years just holding each other but eventually, completely relaxed in Italy's arms, Germany fell asleep. Of course the smaller male had trouble moving him but when he did he moved himself out from underneath Germany's built form. He removed the man's shoes and with some difficulty, moved his feet up onto the couch and then covered him up with a blanket. He smiled a sad smile to himself as he leaned down to kiss Germany's forehead before moving to lock up the house, turn off the lights, and lay on the other open couch.

When morning came Germany was surprised to find that he had fallen asleep at all and on his couch to boot. He wondered how he gotten there and why he was still in his clothes. As he sat up, the blanket falling away from him, the previous day's affairs came rushing back to him. The waiting for Gilbert's phone call, the call from the hospital, the morgue, Gilbert's body, paperwork, and the last thing he could remember was hugging something. Something warm, something soft. When he looked at the other couch he realized what that something was and a small smile spread across his face. Italy had been with him through all of it and he couldn't express how thankful to his clueless friend he was. But soon, the moment of tiny happiness past as the emotions of loss lodged themselves into his throat. Was this how it was going to be, Germany waking up in the morning briefly forgetting the nightmare of yesterdays'? Did it ever get easier, realizing he had lost someone? Whatever happened he knew he had to keep moving forward. Gilbert would want him to do that.

* * *

Translation

German: Ich liebe dich English: I love you


	3. Chapter Three : Dark Mornings

Disclaimer: All rights of Aspen belong to me, Ash aka CrzyAlterEgo, and all rights to Rowan belong to my friend, Bailey aka KiraKiraDoki. DO NOT STEAL. All rights of Hetalia belong to Hidekaz Himaruya, they do NOT belong to me.  
Please give me a review! Tell me how to make it better.

Chapter Three : Dark Mornings

Two days later Germany woke early, tying his black tie in the mirror. The day of the funeral. Yesterday had been the wake and to his surprise more people had known Gilbert than he thought. He tried his hardest to push the thought of his brother lying in the casket out of his head as he tightened his tie. He looked as if he was about to go to a wedding, not a funeral. His hair was slicked back like normal, only this time his eyes had small bags under them, a clear sign of the stress he had been going through lately. He looked over at the clock and took a deep breath before heading out of his room. There, in the middle of the living room with his back turned away from Germany, looking out the bay window was Japan. Just as Germany was, the Asian man was dressed in a suit and looked ready to go to. He silently wondered how much pain the shorter man was going through. He had known that him and Gilbert had a rather good relationship, as did Gilbert and Italy. However, it wasn't the time to stop and think about how much pain his friend was in. If he did, he knew he'd start realizing he had lost the same person the other man was mourning over. Instead he cleared his throat to let Japan know he was there as he moved forward to stand beside him. Though, it was clear that Japan had heard him, he made no more to make eye contact. He continued to stare out the window with his dark brown eyes as if lost in a trance.

"Mr. Germany, it's a rovery day out is it not?" Japan asked as he stared at the landscape. There was only one problem, it was raining.

The ceremony was over and as the group of teary eyed people glanced one last time to the casket from under their umbrellas they started to move to their warm and dry cars. It was mostly the men that Germany had grown up with. Gilbert's two best friends had been there, Spain in a mess of tears as France stood with strong shoulders and red rimmed eyes. There was Hungary, who was the only one in her military uniform, holding her head high as best she could as she stood there looking at Gilbert's casket. If anyone knew the two of them, they knew how much the poor sweet woman was suffering. Yet after she saluted the wooden death trap she burst out in laughter that echoed through the steady rain.

"I beat you, you foul! Just like I always do. But no one ever said you had to die without me. We were pals," she said as she finally fell to her knees and began sobbing into her hands as the mud stained her pants. Germany stood just a little ways away from her and yet he made no attempt to move. He saw Austria, a man who despite his snobby prince attitude was a long time friend of sorts, dropped the umbrella he had been holding and ran to his love's side. She sobbed loudly and Austria held her despite the fact she was wet and shivering. If anyone had to guess, they could believe that the young beautiful woman was in love with Gilbert. Which was true. No one believed it, but Hungary loved the Prussian so much she had left his side as to never hurt him as she did when they were children. Though, then again, they had both hurt each other. Many would have thought that Gilbert was in an unrequited love but the truth was the feeling of love was so even that no one noticed it, blinded by Gilbert's ego and Hungary's lingering pride. She moved into Austria's house and lived with him, yet her relationship with the man whom she lived with was only friendship and her love for the Prussian was as strong as it had been since childhood. Any man could see how blind she was to Austria's love. Every man pitied Austria. He had married the woman he loved unconditionally, who later divorced him to live her own life, proud and strong, and even when the one thing that stood in his way was gone she couldn't let go of the man she should have married.

In a way, Germany felt a tinge of sorrow for her. She loved him so much and now he was gone. Just as Germany had. He wanted to do the same as the brave, strong woman, yet he couldn't and he allowed for her to do the crying for the both of them. Finally, Austria lifted Hungary and helped to lead her away from the gravesite. He looked at Germany, who didn't look back, and walked away. Japan had walked away soon after he saw the casket, and others had stood from a little bit away and paid their respects. Even the childish Russia had attended, serious and calm as an adult for once. Now, the German man was the last of the crowd. Of course, there was still the gravedigger, but he paid no attention to the tall blond. He stared at the polish wood which held his brother and almost fell to his knees.

"Germany. Let's go home," Italy said as he stood behind Germany, already headed to the car which they had both arrived in. With the effort only a true soldier could possibly muster Germany reached his hand deep in his pocket for his brother's heart and turned on his heels for the future.

The door which closed shut behind him was nothing but a light tap of wood hitting wood. He didn't process it; however, what he did process was the sound of the rain all around him. He was soaking wet, cold to the bone. Not even the chill of wet cloth on his skin processed in his mind. The sound of splattering rain was the only thing. He'd remember the sound of rain for the rest of his life, and if he didn't, he'd regret ever living happily with Gilbert as he had. Though he stood in the foyer blankly staring at his surroundings, Italy was moving to remove his coat, which Germany automatically allowed for the him to do. Once his jacket was off Germany was able to think a little. Not much, only one word commands. _Move. Eat. Dry. Sleep._ To someone else the words wouldn't make any sense. His mind, his thoughts, his emotions were spilling, turning, churning, and weeping. There was no handbook on how to cope with the death of a loved one. There was no rules on how to mourn, and that only made it that much more difficult for Germany to understand what was happening to him. With lead filled limbs he moved himself to the couch and sat down, this time not falling. If there was anything he was in control of, it was his body. He wasn't in control of the scene that had played out that day, or the last few days, but he was in control of his body, his movements.

"Would you like to eat?" Italy asked quietly as he moved to crouch in front of Germany. The man looked at him and let out a breath of hot air as he nodded. He might as well eat while someone was willing to take care of him. Otherwise he would probably starve to death. The Italian man moved away and the air that was once warm where he was turned icy cold and Germany's eyes shot open. They were bright blue, wide, tired, and alive. He looked across the couch to see the phantom shape of Gilbert sitting in the armchair, ankle resting on his knee with a playful smile on his face. _"__Lächeln, __Bruder. __Ich bin hier_," the phantom said with Gilbert's voice as he pointed to his heart. Smile, brother. I'm right here. Gilbert was right, Ludwig would always have him in his heart, and he would always have his heart. That's when the tears began.

The strong, steady soldier of a man bent over in sudden pain and began to sob. He was lost, alone, confused, hurt. He was a child all over again. Tears fell from his eyes like blood fell from a deep wound. He was coiling in on himself, wishing he had died by him, just like him, along side him on the battlefield. He hadn't even noticed when Italy had dropped the knife in the kitcheing and came running to Germany's side.

"He's not gone. H-he can't be. HE CAN'T GO AWAY! _Gilbert, komm zurück! Komm zurück! Ich habe nicht gesagt Ich liebe dich! Ich liebe dich! Ich liebe dich Bruder wieder nach Hause kommen! Komm zurück! Du kannst nicht gehen. Du bist nicht tot!"_ Italy wrapped his arms tightly around the larger man who was now on the floor, beating his fists against the cold wood. He beat them so hard that blood had started to form on his hands, but he didn't care. All he wanted was the peace of having Gilbert home. When that peace didn't come, he screamed and hit the floor again.

"Ludwig, stop it!" Italy yelled frantically at him, pushing his shoulders back as best he could to look into his face. Germany growled and pushed Italy back so hard he fell on his butt.

"Don't you _ever _call me zat! You aren't him!" he hissed out low and venomous. After a moment of glaring at Italy through tear clouded eyes he realized what he had done and pushed himself backwards to sit. The tears continued to fall but his yelling and fist smashing had halted. Italy stared at him, and normally he'd be the one crying, yet now his face was calm and wiped of any feelings directed towards Germany. Rather he moved and wrapped his arms around his friend and hugged him just tight enough to let the numb soldier feel the love.

"I'm not him, but I won't leave you. Ever. That's why we're best friends," Italy said as he loosened the hug and kissed Germany's cheek. He had felt the hug and the closeness of Italy but what he didn't feel was the contact of flesh on his skin. If he was thinking rationally he would have realized it. Then Italy looked at him with droopy eyes, lightly grabbed his chin to turn it towards him, and kissed him lightly on the lips. And that registered. A moment didn't even pass by when Germany moved away, pushing Italy back and standing up. His cheeks were still stained with the reminder of tears but now his eyes were hardened and closed off of all emotions. If the Italian man was hoping to see his strong soldier companion show any more emotion he was sadly mistaken. Germany wiped off his cheeks and glared at Italy.

"I-I'm sorry. I-I just…I just love you! I love you Ludwig, I always have!" Italy said as tears were about to fall from his eyes. Though, Germany didn't care. He didn't even feel the loss that Italy felt at being rejected of the one person he loved the most.

"Do not call me zat. Ever," he said cold and serious. If there was an emotion that he was rather good at showing it was anger. Italy looked at Germany and finally the tears fell.

"We-well, you know you don't have to be so a mean! I love you and I'm here to take care of you. Just because a Gilbert left doesn't mean I'm going to leave. You can love me, can't you?" Italy said trying to keep his voice calm and his normal steady smile cheerful but that was failing him. There were two words the man had said in the matter of two minutes that made Germany snap. The first was his name. The second was Gilbert's. No one was allowed to call Gilbert that, unless they were Germany or Hungary and neither called him that out in public. Italy was never given that privilege. Germany let out a soft growl as he moved to hover over the figure of Italy that was now lying on the floor, looking up at the blond.

"Get out. Get out. Don't come back. You are not velcome here anymore. Now leave," he said as clear and crisp as the words could possibly be spoken with a threat lingering behind them. Italy stared; shaking and whimpering as he looked up at the man with wide brown eyes who could easily kill him with no regrets. He slowly backed up on his hands and then stood.

"_Ti amo, Germania_," he said quietly as he turned on his heels and ran out of the house. After a moment or so Germany sat down on the couch and looked at the clock. It was late, but not that late. Suddenly, out of nowhere, his stomach growled telling him how hungry he was as he stared at it and bust out in laughter.

* * *

Translation

German: Lächeln, Bruder. Ich bin hier.  
English: Smile brother, I'm right here.

German: _Gilbert__, komm zurück! Komm zurück! Ich habe nicht gesagt Ich liebe dich! Ich liebe dich! Ich liebe dich Bruder wieder nach Hause kommen! Komm zurück! Du kannst nicht gehen. Du bist nicht tot!  
_English: Gilbert, come back! Come back! I didn't say I love you! I love you! I love you brother come back home! Come back! You can't leave. You aren't dead!

Italian: Ti amo, Germania.  
English: I love you, Germany.


	4. Chapter Four : Spanish Adobe

Disclaimer: All rights of Aspen belong to me, Ash aka CrzyAlterEgo, and all rights to Rowan belong to my friend, Bailey aka KiraKiraDoki. DO NOT STEAL. All rights of Hetalia belong to Hidekaz Himaruya, they do NOT belong to me.  
Please give me a review! Tell me how to make it better.

Chapter Four : Spanish Adobe

The memories of the previous days were still fresh in his mind and he almost believed they'd be fresh for the rest of his life. Now, he was sitting in his office, figuring on where to go and what to do. He had kicked Italy out of his life and he assumed the only man that was his friend would be gone forever. No one else seemed to like the strict German very much. Even as a child he wasn't liked by many people and he didn't know why. With a deep breath he gathered himself up and went to the door. He stared at the handle for the longest time trying to think of places to go until a thought struck him. The battlefield. But where was that? Gilbert had always called home, but Germany never asked where he was. He was too worried about how his older brother was fairing with the weather and conditions of war rather than the location of it, need he have to go and save him. However, he had a feeling that he knew someone who would be able to find out where the battlefield was or might even know without having to search. Spain. Without another second wasted, Germany turned the knob and headed out for the other man's home.

"Oh, hey there Germany," said the man at the door of a rather eloquent home. It wasn't like Germany's at all, but rather it was more lively and happy than neat and orderly. However, even though the normally happy owner of the house kept the vibrant place alive even with the designs on the ceilings and walls everything seemed depressed. Walking into the house was like walking into a cemetery where people were grieving. Which was exactly what Spain was doing. The Spanish man had lost one of his closest friends, someone he had grown up with and caused so much trouble amongst. Germany walked into the silent home and stared at the walls. He knew that if he said anything the Spanish man would more than likely burst into tears. Spain was described as a happy and cheerful man, passionate and considerate. Yet, he tended to be a little bit too passionate about some things – death, as they all now learned, was one of them.

"How can I help you _mi amigo_?" Spain said, closing the door as he turned to face the man who was looking at his home. Normally, Germany would have planned out what he would say when he had gotten himself into a situation that wasn't easy to deal with. Now, it was merely just trying his best to think on his feet. The wrong word could send Spain in tears, or doing something stupid, and Germany wasn't sure if he could handle stupid or tears at the moment.

"Vell, you see, ve need to talk. About Prussia. If you please," he said getting straight to the point. That was the type of personality he had; blunt and straightforward. He didn't know how to sugar coat things or not tell the whole truth, which probably was why so many of the other countries disliked him so much, viewing him as mean and cruel.

He looked horrible. His normal smooth brown hair was messy and it appeared dirty. He questioned if Spain had found the energy to get himself into a shower the last few days. Spain looked at Germany, green eyes wide as he tried to understand the words which had just left the other man's lips. Though, it shouldn't have been too surprising, seeing as Spain had been there a lot during Germany's upraising, mostly since he was raising an orphan of his own. Spain had raised Romano, Italy's older brother, while Austria raised Italy. It was rather normal for Spain to bring Romano over for a 'play date' when the two were just barely out of toddlerhood.

"What do you want to talk about?" he said, trying to recoil from the sudden bluntness he wasn't exactly ready for.

"I vant to know if you know vhere ze battlefield vas or if you knew how Prussia died," he said as he felt the air in the room still. This wasn't a conversation that should be held in a foyer, but rather an office and Spain, who was horrible at reading the air, felt this and gestured for Germany to follow him.

"No, I don't. I had no idea that Prussia had gone to war at all. The last time I talked to him was half a year ago. That crazy _hombre _hardly told me anything other than the good old days," Spain replied, seeming shocked to hear the news that his best friend had died in battle. It was more shocking still to him that Gilbert was gone, but at the moment the shock of secrecy was more potent. Germany stared at him, his expression wiped of the shock he felt. How could the other man, who was such a good friend to Gilbert, not know that he was in trouble? But, then again, he didn't put it past Gilbert not to tell Spain. Antonio Carriedo was one of the biggest airheads that Germany knew, aside from Italy of course. He was immune to negative things and he couldn't read the atmosphere in any situation. He was always positive and happy, and sometimes even more passionate than France. He also had a thing for Romano, but of course every country already knew that.

It almost seemed like the right idea to not tell Spain. Prussia wasn't one to worry others with his problems, which was more or less the reason why every time there was an issue he stated he was so awesome he could do anything. And about 99% of the time everyone believed that there was nothing wrong and Prussia was just letting his ego get the better of him. Germany looked to the door which he had recently entered and then back to Spain. What was he supposed to say to the other grieving man? That he felt his pain and he was there if he needed him? If he did say that it would be a lie. Germany found he couldn't even be there for himself, so trying to be there for someone else was insane and irrational. He didn't even know how the other man felt. He knew how _he _felt, but he didn't know what Spain felt. Saying anything of comfort would be the wrong thing to say and so the younger man sighed.

"Do you know who might know?" he asked quietly, the room getting suddenly quiet. There had nothing to bring noise to it before, but something in the air had made the room eerily quiet now. Spain looked at his desk which he leaned against and closed his eyes. It seemed like the talk was causing him too much pain, but Germany was determined to find out how and where his brother had died. If he could, he'd have avoided the whole conversation if he had someone else to turn to, but truthfully he couldn't think of anyone.

"Francis might know," Spain said directly speaking of France as he reopened his eyes. He hadn't thought to think of the Frenchman. He, too, was also very close to Gilbert, yet in the recent years it seemed they had drifted a bit. However, despite their outward appearances, Germany knew that Gilbert and France was so tight a crowbar would have an issue getting the two apart. He mentally slapped himself for not thinking of it sooner and nodded to the Spaniard. He wasn't able to get the exact words out but Germany was extremely thankful for the information.

"I'll…invite you to dinner tomorrow evening," Germany said, his way of saying thanks. He watched as Spain's face lit up in a sad smile and then slowly into a brighter one. The man was starting to see that the world wasn't as dark as he thought and nodded to Germany's offer.

"Then, I'll see you then. _Adios mi hermano_," he said with a soft wave of his hand as Germany turned to leave for France's home.

* * *

Translations

Spanish: Mi amigo  
English: My friend

Spanish: Hombre  
English: Man

Spanish: Adios mi hermano  
English: Goodbye my brother**  
**


	5. Chapter Five : Garden Heart

Disclaimer: All rights of Aspen belong to me, Ash aka CrzyAlterEgo, and all rights to Rowan belong to my friend, Bailey aka KiraKiraDoki. DO NOT STEAL. All rights of Hetalia belong to Hidekaz Himaruya, they do NOT belong to me.  
Please give me a review! Tell me how to make it better.

Chapter Five : Garden Heart

"I honestly didn't expect to see you," France said as he put a piece of his wavy hair behind his ear. He and Germany were now sitting in his office, where France had deemed it best to hold important conversations. Germany raised an eyebrow in turn to France's statement.

"Whut I mean by that is I assumed after the funeral you'd have no reason to deal with me anymore," he said, his normal flirtatious sense of voice gone. The blond shook his head and looked out the window.

"_Nein_. You are as much family as Prussia. Just because of zat doesn't mean I vould leave you out in the cold," he said softly. A part of him knew that he would never stop communicating with France. The man was like his second brother, but to the world they had to act as if they didn't get along. He placed his hands in his pockets, realizing he had brought along the heart which had belong to Gilbert. He silently recalled how he had gotten it but pushed the memory back, he had a more important question to ask.

"Spain said he didn't know vhere ze battlefield vas. Do you?" he asked, getting straight to the subject. He had a strange feeling that Gilbert hadn't even told France and suddenly knots formed in his stomach and panic set in.

"_Non_, he only told me he wus going to war," the Frenchman said. His feeling was right. Gilbert had kept a secret from even those closest to him. He would fight the battle he was dragged in to on his own and prove to the others he was stronger than they thought.

"How did he die?" Germany asked as thoughts ran through his head. Thoughts he wished he could block out, yet with Gilbert's death he couldn't. Emotions ran high but the German man held it in.

"He wus stabbed through the heart with a spear. Point blank, defenseless," France said blatantly. Germany looked at the desk that the man sat behind, too worn out to look into the blond's tired blue eyes. How long had he been in the flamboyant man's office? An hour? An hour and a half? He wasn't sure anymore.

"Hey Ludwig, come outside oont look at zis!" he recalled Gilbert's voice as he was pulled back in time. At the time Ludwig, since he wasn't yet known as Germany, was still a child. He got himself off of the couch in Gilbert's estate and headed out the door. He was still a small boy, about five or six years old. He wore blue overalls and a gray shirt, an outfit that the Prussian had picked out for him.

When he finally found his way to Big Brother Gilbert's voice he had already thought of a million ridiculous things his brother could have found. However, he hadn't considered what the man had actually found.

It was a rock, in the shape of a heart. At a glance it looked as if man crafted it but as the small boy drew closer he saw it was real.

"Vhere did you find zat?" Ludwig asked as he got into a crouched position next to his brother, eyes wide with curiosity as he stared at the stone. It wasn't small, but it wasn't big either. It sat nestled nicely in the center of Gilbert's palm.

"Right here," the normally loud man said softly as he pointed to the pond, which they were near. It was shallow, and the water was so clear that the pebbled bottom could be seen. It was a very small pond with a tiny waterfall that helped give it a more pond like feeling. Of course, the pond was man-made, but the pebbles at the bottom had not been.

"Are you going to keep it?" the little blond boy asked as he looked to his older brother. If Gilbert didn't he would.

"Of course. I'll call it my heart. Vone day it vill be yours."

In the office, Germany played with the heart shaped rock in his hands. Since he and Gilbert had found it so many years prior the older male had gotten words inscribed on both sides. On what was assumed to be the front read _Gilbert Beilschmidt's Heart _and when turned over the backside read _Belongs to Ludwig Beilschmidt_. When he first had found the heart a smirk had played on his face. His brother, as he always did, kept his word.

Finally, he raised his head to France, giving him a distance look with a blank face. This man, this crazy, love driven wine drinker, had been one of Gilbert's best friends. The Bad Touch Trio – that was what Gilbert, Spain, and France himself had been called.

"_Danke_. I shall be leaving," Germany said as he stood up from his seat.

"I will be here if you need me. I'm suffering just as you," France said in a leveled voice as he reached his hand out to Germany, who pulled away, shying from the help; shying away from the close contact that if he had he wouldn't be able to handle. Without looking back to see what expression the older man held, Germany held his head high, shoulders broad as he walked out of the room.

* * *

Translation

German: Nein  
English: No  
French: Non  
English: No  
German: Danke  
English: Thank you**  
**


	6. Chapter Six : Lucky Number 7

Disclaimer: All rights of Aspen belong to me, Ash aka CrzyAlterEgo, and all rights to Rowan belong to my friend, Bailey aka KiraKiraDoki. DO NOT STEAL. All rights of Hetalia belong to Hidekaz Himaruya, they do NOT belong to me.  
Please give me a review! Tell me how to make it better.

Chapter Six : Lucky Number 7

When he got home to the estate Gilbert had left him he wasn't sure what to do. After the dissolve of the Prussian nation, Gilbert had moved into his younger brother's house.

_"Zat house is too big for me,"_ he said when he had abruptly moved in with Germany.

The house had remained the same since he had last seen it. It was clean and well-kept like Germany's own home. The only noticeable change had been pictures that sat on the fireplace mantle. It was two new portraits to the already two that had a home there. The farthest to the left was a formal picture of Germany and Gilbert, a family picture. The two men were clean and in suits. The next one was a picture of both in their military uniforms, drunk as could be in their favorite bar, while Gilbert had his arm over Germany's shoulder and was leaning into him with one of his laughing smiles. Germany's own arm was slung in the same position as his brother's, yet he seemed to be more upright with his standing. Everyone in the background was blurred, done on purpose so the only clean image was the two of them, while they enjoyed the night with beer mugs which seemed glue to their hands. Staring at them, Germany could recall exact details of each picture. It felt like yesterday and the hollowness left by Gilbert's death returned.

The next two pictures were from Germany's childhood. One was of him and Gilbert smiling as they busied themselves in the garden. The last was the day Germany had received his country name.

* * *

"Ludwig! I have awesome news for you," Gilbert said as he walked into Ludwig's room. The room had been changed in two years that he had grown. He was still young, only eight and three quarters and still the same height, yet it was no longer the little boy's room that Gilbert had decorated. There were no longer stuffed pandas, bunnies, or bears. There were no longer pinks, bright blues, or even whites. It was a room that was gathering a growing pile of books in a corner near his bed, a little bookshelf that had been constructed, a desk, and dark hues of browns, greens, blues, and blacks. The room seemed bare to what it previously was. The little boy still wore his overalls and stood up from his desk, waiting for his beloved older brother to tell him the news.

"Today, you vill get your country name," the red-eyed man said with a wide smile, filled with pure happiness and joy. For a moment, Ludwig wasn't sure if the older male was being serious. He had learned very quickly that his brother was hardly ever serious. The little boy was almost nine and he still hadn't any idea as to what country he'd become, or if he would become one at all. He had heard of other little children becoming countries moments after they were born, and some when they were a few months. He was almost doubtful that whoever it was who made countries would think of making him one. Then the smile that had been delayed by shock and uncertainty appeared as Ludwig ran at his brother and wrapped his small arms around Gilbert's legs.

"Really? Really?! Vat vill my name be?" he asked excitedly.

"I don't know, but I bet it's something as awesome as Prussia," Gilbert said and ushered the boy out of the room.

Less than an hour later, both Gilbert and Ludwig were waiting behind a curtain, off stage, until the officials called them both out. Ludwig wasn't exactly sure why they were behind a curtain, but Gilbert explained that it was a formal sort of thing. Every country Gilbert had known had to travel to a theatre where the officials would gather. Neither of them had been given any hints as to what country name Ludwig would acquire. However, they both were informed that Ludwig would live in Gilbert's house until his new home was constructed. Once it was, at whatever age he happened to be, Ludwig would have to move there, away from Gilbert. Though, being his biological brother, the Prussian still held guardianship and responsibility over the child until he was old enough to take care of himself or 18.

"Ludwig, Prussia," a woman said as she came from off stage. The little boy tensed up but held both his head and shoulders high, something he hadn't known then but would become a trademark later in his life. He soon relaxed when his older brother placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a wink.

"Welcome, Ludwig Beilschmidt and Gilbert Beilschmidt," an older man of about 40 said to the two boys. There was a group of seven of them, an odd number but for them and every other current country it was normal. In front of him was a name plate that read North America. The order of the names went Asia, Africa, Europe, South America, then North America, Antarctica, and the last was Australia.

"Zey are ze continents," Gilbert whispered into Ludwig's ear as the men, for they were all men, talked amongst themselves and got organized. Finally, when the papers were finished being rustled a man wearing glasses and who looked about 80 spoke.

"Good evening. We have gathered you both here today on the account of Ludwig Beilschmidt's country name. We know for some time we did not give any word to either of you on if young Ludwig was to become a country. We apologize, but now you have our answer," he said, his name plate reading Asia.

"It has been decided that you will become a country residing in Europe due to your brother's location and the fact that he is your only living relation," the man next to him, named Africa, said with an accent to his voice just as Asia had. The words"only living relation" sparked a question in Ludwig's mind. He had once had family? People who weren't Gilbert? He noted to himself that he would remember to ask the question at the end of the ceremony. He needed to know who his other family members were, or had been. He loved Gilbert with all his heart despite the way he tried to get away from him, but he felt as if he needed a father in his life. Even a mother.

"Gilbert Prussia Beilschmidt, please step forward," Africa said looking down at his notes. Gilbert stepped forward as he was asked, his hands clasped behind his back and his face lacking expression. Unlike Ludwig, Gilbert wore his military uniform. It was slightly too big for him only because the continents decided how tall each country would become and their weight, and Gilbert wasn't fully grown yet. The uniform was a dark blue, the shade of a royal blue if not a little darker. It was detailed in its military way of numerous pockets and shiny buttons. Underneath he wore a black shirt and black tie were just barely visible.

"The country of Prussia. Will become 177 cm and weigh about 68 kg. Age is currently 15. You are Ludwig's brother and have been raising him in your estate since birth. Anything else?" the man asked as he peered at Gilbert after looking at the papers in front of him.

"Nein," he said and waited for further direction.

"Young Ludwig Beilschmidt, please step forward," the man named Europe spoke as he gave Ludwig a smile that said he could be trusted. "Here is your country name, which shall be known by all over the world and from henceforth: Germany. You will speak the Prussian language, which will later become known as the German language. Although the Prussian state shall not have been collapsed for some time it will eventually collapse and therefore the language will be yours. You will grow to be 180 cm tall and weigh 82 kg. Congratulations son," Europe said as he continued to smile, this time even kinder while Ludwig tried to keep the same expression as Gilbert did. On the inside he was shouting with joy.

"Here is your military uniform. In two years' time your home will be built and as required by the laws of the world, you will need to move into your home. For now, that is all. Do you have any questions?" Europe said as he looked over his notes.

"Ja. What do you mean sir, about my family?" Ludwig said finding his voice and using it since coming to the theatre. There was a sigh that came from Europe that clearly said he hadn't wanted the question to be the asked. After a moment of silence the older man spoke.

"Your father was named Germania and your mother we have no record of. It is believed that Germania died some time ago. You also had a younger brother by the name of Holy Rome, yet he has died or disappeared as your father has. That is about the only information about your family we have, save that Gilbert is your full brother and the oldest out of the three of Germania's children," Europe said looking at Ludwig with a thoughtful and sincere expression. Ludwig nodded and found himself pulled back into deep thought. He had found out that he had relatives outside of Gilbert, but where they had gone or what had happened to them was unknown. He wanted more answers, but it was clear that they had told him all they knew, or rather all they wanted to have him know.

"Oh, one last thing. Whereas the Prussian state will dissolve with time the German state shall not. However, be well aware of the Herlanican and Rurimic states in the future," Europe said changing the topic of family back to the ceremony that was being held, his voice held a warning tone to it that meant Ludwig should take it seriously. Ludwig, now Germany, nodded not quite caring about the news as he walked forward and retrieved his uniform. It was a blue coloring, quite a few shades lighter than that of Gilbert's royal blue one. With that, both of the boys bowed to the gentlemen and took their leave for the wings.

"Vell, look how awesome you are!" Gilbert said to his little brother as he ruffled his blond hair. He smiled, but then grabbed at Gilbert's hand and put on a stone serious face as best he could.

"You can't treat me like a kid anymore. I'm ze country of Germany," he said as he stood up straight, proud of his title. Gilbert made a face and then pulled something out of one of his many jacket pockets.

"I vas going to give zis to you even if zey didn't make you a country," he said as he held out a necklace with a thick black cross on it. Ludwig took it and looked it over.

"Zis looks like ze vone you are vearing," Ludwig said as he looked up to Gilbert's own cross necklace. The older boy nodded.

"Zat is vat zey call ze Iron Cross. Zat is my present to you Germany," Gilbert said as the two turned and left the building.

* * *

Translations

Height: Prussia - 5'9" Weight: 150lbs  
Height: Germany - 5'11" Weight: 180lbs  
German: Nein (No) Ja (Yes)

Author's Note: Hey everyone. Thanks for getting this far into reading. I hope you like it so far and have been leaving me reviews or stuff.  
Anyway, I'm here to tell you if you haven't already guess that this is a yaoi story and in the future it will become rated M. If you wish to stop now, then please do so, otherwise continue reading because it only gets better.

The reason I am putting this here, verse all the other chapters is because this is where you meet Aspen and the story actually starts to unfold into it's true rating instead of a sad story that makes you want to cry for days. So, please, enjoy. Keep reading. Like I said, it can only get better.

Also, the idea of the countries is originally mind, so if you want to reference them or whatever, please ask me or something. Because, I did create them and it's only the nice thing to do.


	7. Chapter Seven : Populus tremuloides

Disclaimer: All rights of Aspen belong to me, Ash aka CrzyAlterEgo, and all rights to Rowan belong to my friend, Bailey aka KiraKiraDoki. DO NOT STEAL. All rights of Hetalia belong to Hidekaz Himaruya, they do NOT belong to me.  
Please give me a review! Tell me how to make it better.

Chapter Seven : Populus tremuloides

The pictures held many happy memories that Germany fondly recalled. However, the one that had remained with him every day was the cross Germany began unintentionally playing with. Gilbert was gone. Forever. He still found it completely absurd to believe that his happy, annoying, older brother was dead. There was no way to get him back or tell him how he felt. Gilbert, it seemed, couldn't die. It seemed impossible. The red-eyed man had been all of Germany's family for his entire life. He couldn't recall a time without his brother in some way nor could remember what his parents looked like. The feelings that lingered gathered in his chest and he took a deep breath to loosen them a bit. He had a lot of things he still wanted to say to Gilbert. He had a feeling that if he said out loud what was on his mind that Gilbert would hear, but he would miss out on the luxuries on hearing him answer back. Then a thought struck him suddenly and terrifying. What if one day he stopped hearing Gilbert's voice? What if he completely just forgot the sound of his older brother speaking? He wasn't sure what he would do, but if that ever happened he'd hate himself. Life was difficult enough without a manual or a guidebook to follow, so if he lost the only voice of guidance he would lose himself. He wasn't one to think on his feet or one to just go with the flow. Then again, Gilbert hadn't been either but he had time to practice. When Germany had stumbled or was awkward, Gilbert was there to make sure that everything was awkward so his little brother felt normal. Suddenly, Germany felt a presence and turned around quickly. Grabbing at his gun he faced the intruder.

"It was open," said the intruder. The intruder was a young man, maybe two years or so younger than Germany, making him about 18 or 19. He glared at the other man, not lowering his gun for any reason. The man put his hands up, showing he had no weapons and that it was okay for Germany to put his away. Slowly, he did exactly that, he lowered his weapon and in turn the intruder lowered his hands. Germany looked the man up and down, wondering if he had seen him before or if he was a country.

"Vat's your name?" he asked the intruder gruffly.

"Aspen. Aspen Rodnich," Aspen said calmly as he looked at Germany. The German man gave the boy a once over from head to toe. The outfit which he wore was what one would think as an odd sort of ensemble. His shoes were an off green coloring and his pants were a lunch bag brown. The oddest material that stood out the was his shirt. The jacket he wore was blue and had gold decoration on the shoulders, almost like a marching band uniform. His shirt underneath was white and he wore a startling dark red tie. However, when Germany looked at the entire outfit it actually seemed fashionable. Though, it wasn't what he was wearing that made Germany stop and do a double take; it was his eyes. His eyes were a beautiful color that he wasn't used to seeing and they seemed to twinkle with emotion. If anything, Aspen seemed to have the trait that most girls would kill him for; those charming eyes.

Suddenly Germany's mind wandered to the red eyes he had seen on a daily basis and his own brilliant blue. Aspen's were so unlike both, yet so alike. Like Gilbert's they were beautiful, but like Germany's they were guarded and protected despite their beauty. They also weren't like the two because underneath the ice and fire he seemed to have a soft side to him, one he wasn't going to show. He wasn't used to seeing many varieties of eye colors. Occasionally he saw Italy's. That was if the man decided to open his eyes and show the world. Aspen's eyes were a sparkling emerald-green. They didn't look extremely welcoming as America's did or even Italy's, but they weren't scary and closed off to the world. They were hidden behind half-rimmed glasses that were brown. His hair was a light blond, one or two shades darker than white blond but probably just a little lighter than Gilbert's own platinum.

"Vhere are you from?" he asked still suspicious of the man. Though he had lowered his weapon he was ready at any moment to draw it if need be.

"England," he said without pausing a beat. From what Germany could hear he sounded English enough to live in England, though he seemed to sound more Americanized, but that could always just mean he was American born living in England. The thing Germany was kind of happy for was that he didn't have Britain's annoying accent.

"Vhy are you here?" he asked finally getting to the question which was hanging in the air.

"I knew your brother. I served him in the war. He asked that I look after his little brother should something happen to him. But never told me his 'little brother' was a grown man of at least 20 and twice my size," he said. He seemed rather angry, not at all happy with where he was and when Germany looked closer he could tell how on guard the other man was. He was about to jump out of his skin and attack the blond as if he was the intruder and Aspen was the dog protecting his owners home. He found himself slightly surprised and started to chuckle, but then quickly coughed to regain himself.

"I don't need someone to look after me. _Danke, kleiner Junge_," he said as he walked over to Aspen and rubbed his head before walking to the door behind him. However, just as he was about to exit the house he heard a noise.

"Aspen! Assssssspeeeeen!" the voice said and soon Germany saw the body attached to it, for it came crashing right into him.

"Ow! Aspen can't you ever move out of my way. I told you to wait for me, why didn't you wait? I said I wanted to come with – oh…um…" the male that now lay on the floor said as he looked up into the face of the German man. He stared wide-eyed at him with Italy-like terror in his eyes. Emerald green. Right away Germany could tell that the two were brothers. He had never seen that type of green within such a short period of time. After a moment of gaping and staring, the boy on the floor scrambled to his feet and clasped his brother's arm. Aspen sighed and rolled his eyes as he looked at his brother before shaking his head.

"Sir, this is Rowan. My younger brother," he said, clearly annoyed by his siblings actions. Strangely, that was something that Germany could relate to. He was always annoyed or embarrassed with what Gilbert did and seeing the same thing occur right in front of him was rather entertaining. The boy did look annoying, but he also looked timid and shy despite the little speech he had given to Germany upon thinking it was his brother. Unlike Aspen, Rowan had dark brown hair that was just as messy as his older brother's. The smaller male also wore glasses only his were golden with a chain that attached to his hair. He wore a pair of pure white pants, with a black jacket, gray vest, and a weird white shirt. It was clear to Germany that the clothes Rowan was wearing were casual, unlike Aspen's, but definitely not in style.

"If Gilbert asked for you to be my friend zen you can help me pack his zings up," he said as he turned away from the brothers. "If he stays, he packs too," he said as an order directed to Rowan.

It wasn't too long after their meeting that they finished packing up all of Gilbert's clothes, save his extra military uniforms. Most of his clothes had been at Germany's house so cleaning his closest had been much simpler than he thought. After that was finished, he decided what would go into storage and then they were finished. It wasn't long after they had finished packing the clothes that Rowan ran out of the house as fast as he could. If Aspen disliked Germany so much it was clearer than day how afraid of the large man the brown haired boy was. Eventually, Germany found his way out of his brother's room and had made his way to his own. There he stood in the middle of the room and remembered the past as if it was just yesterday. There was dust covering the pile of books he had started to collect as a child and cobwebs had begun to form in the corners of his desk.

"This was your room," Aspen said from behind Germany. Without turning around to look at the man he nodded.

"I haven't been in zis room in almost ten years," he said as he moved to the pile of books. He lifted up one and read the title. It was _The Call of the Wild_ by Jack London. It was the first English book that he had ever owned. He turned his head to look at Aspen, gesturing for him to bring in a box to start up packing.

For the next hour they sat side by side, packing books into a brown box and stopping every now and then to read over a title. Once in a while a smile would creep across Aspen's face as he read the cover of one of the novels. Most were in German, many were in English, and a good chunk had been divided into Italian and French. Though Germany had no real use for any other language other than English and German he had been asked by Gilbert to learn other languages. He had said that French was more important than he'd think and so was Italian. Though the number one language he had drilled into Germany was to learn English. First and foremost he had to know the universal language.

Once the job was finished Germany decided he'd go out into the garden. It had been some time since he had been out in the beautiful green oasis. If there was something that Gilbert had loved as much as his little brother it was his garden. Not many people believed the man was capable of taking the time out of his 'awesome' life to tend to flowers but he did. Each and every blossom had been well taken care of and tended to with love. He walked through the rows of flowers and different types of exotic plants taking in the beauty of each. He eventually stopped and looked at the opening in the garden that was just a small pavilion. He recalled the time when he had sat there with Gilbert as they stared at the stone they both found. The heart. He pulled it out from deep in his pocket and rolled the rock around on his fingertips. The heart was smooth and comforting, a relaxing feeling. He found himself at peace while in the garden. As a child he would run there when he was in trouble or when he was scared. Nothing, he believed, could get to him within the walls of roses and vines that shielded him from the outside world. But it didn't take him long to realize that wasn't true and nothing could keep him safe, not even Gilbert.

"Hard to believe this garden belonged to him," Aspen's voice said out of the silence. Germany swore under his breath and jumped up from the stone bench to spin around. He glared at Aspen with burning blue eyes and shoved the heart back into his pocket.

"Vhy must you follow me?" he asked, defenses on guard. The other man had his arms crossed and looked at Germany with a glare. He had the air of someone who didn't simply just like people. He seemed cold and protected, like an ice cube. Aspen raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

"You left me in there and it's not exactly my house. I don't like staying where there's no one else or when I'm not wanted," he said as he looked up at the other man. Germany growled softly under his breath as he brushed past Aspen's shoulder, not wanting to deal with the man at the moment.

"Go home. Don't come back because you aren't vanted," he said as he walked out of the garden, knowing that Aspen would soon take his leave. Once he had gotten what he needed from the house he left for his car to go home.

The next day seem to pass by quickly. Once he had woken the world seemed quiet. He no longer had Italy around to make him breakfast or chatter as he normally did. He didn't have Gilbert. He had no friends and therefore his normally busy household was quiet. He finished up the few legal issues he had left to deal with before getting ready for the dinner he was going to prepare that evening. Unlike Italy or Japan, Germany wasn't the greatest or most delicious cook out there. He remembered Gilbert asking France to come over when Germany was young to make him foods that would taste good. Eventually, with some time and hard work, they were able to make hundreds of new dishes that little Germany enjoyed.

While looking in his kitchen, Germany grabbed his favorite apron. It was white with ruffles and the words _Küchenchef_ across the front. Despite the girly look it had Germany treasured the apron. It had been a gift from Gilbert upon finding out his secret passion for sweets. Grabbing a cookbook out of one of the cupboards he flipped through the pages. He knew Spain well enough that he knew what the man liked. Yet, none of his dishes inquired the amount of spice that his did or the amount of rice and seafood. After about twenty minutes of searching he finally came across a recipe he enjoyed. He questioned if Spain himself would like it and then shrugged. Antonio would just have to deal.

Dinner was served at 7 o'clock sharp. He had spent hours slaving away in his kitchen to get the meal just right, taking his time and putting love into the recipe. He also didn't want Spain to see him in his apron. He loved cooking, and even more so baking, but if his brother's close friend knew he'd tease him for centuries to come.

"What's this called?" Spain asked as he looked at the dish that was placed down in front of him. Germany moved to sit in his own seat when Spain asked the question.

"_Königsberger Klopse_. It's a potato oont meatball dish. Ze sauce is made of lemon zuice, lemon, sour cream, oont fresh parsley. Is zis not a good meal?" the German man asked slightly confused. He wasn't sure about Spanish culture and he didn't have Gilbert to help him. He felt himself sink down a little with shame as he looked at the man's wary expression. He wanted to say he was thank you and to comfort them both but he couldn't do that if Spain disliked the meal. After a moment or two, Spain picked up his fork and dove it into the meal. For a moment the Spaniard didn't say anything as he took a bite of a meatball. Then a small smile formed on his lips and he swallowed.

"¡_Est__á muy delicioso!_ I like it," he said as he began to eat more in a hurried manner. The air of awkwardness disappeared as the two ate talking in between bites. Once both plates were cleared Germany went into the kitchen and came back with dessert. The first thing he brought in was _prinzregententore_, a dark chocolate sponge cake that had seven layers and chocolate buttercream between each later. The top layer had a thin spread of apricot jam and the whole cake was covered with dark chocolate with shreds of chocolate on top. After Spain delighted himself in the cake, the German man brought out another dessert, one the Spaniard was sure to know.

"What is that?" he asked as he stared wide-eyed at the cream dessert. So far, it appeared that he had been enjoying the whole dinner. It had started off a little shaky when he assumed the main course was to be odd tasting but soon he realized it was rather delicious. Since the main meal was so small, Germany had decided that two desserts would make up for it.

"Bavarian cream," he said as he set the dish in front of the man and then walked over to his own seat. Without a moment's delay, Spain dove into the dessert and was continuously moaning in delight at the rich tastes. Germany gave a small smile as he ate his own dessert slowly. While they enjoyed their treats they made small talk, mostly about Gilbert. The evening was filled with laughs and smiles, no tears or sadness was anywhere near the two. It was exactly how Germany had hoped it to be – an evening to remember.

* * *

Latin: Populus tremuloides English: Aspen Tree  
German: _Danke, kleiner Junge _English: Thank you, little boy.  
German: _Küchenchef_ English: Chef  
Spanish: ¡_Est__á muy delicioso! _English: This is very delicious!

Just some history, Bavarian cream is a German pudding that is common in Bavaria, but it originated in Germany (I think I just repeated myself.)  
Prinzregententorte is a German chocolate cake, also common in Bavaria and originated in Germany.  
_Königsberger Klopse, _however, unlike the desserts in this chapter, is an East Prussian cuisine (Hence, in Germany).

I'm not the expert on German foods or desserts - if you are and this is something that is not eaten in German do tell me. I don't wish to sound like a fool.

Hey guys. So it's been awhile. My bad. Life happened. Anyway, hope everyone had a great Hallow's Eve. Leave me comments – I love to hear from you guys.

Also, major comment – the continents in the previous chapters were completely and solely my idea. I created them, no help was given from any other fanmade thing/source/whatever. If you wish to use them in a fanfic, please, LET ME KNOW. Otherwise it is plagiarism and I will find a way to get you for stealing.

Peace,

Marshal


End file.
